Ciao e Benvenuto mein wunderbare Frankenfriends!
Isn’t dial-a-pizza wonderful? You pick up the phone, bark out your orders and then half an hour later a fast food angel arrives on his scooter of wonders to deliver flatbread nirvana straight into your eager little mitts. It truly is a miracle of modern convenience eating but, as Will and Jolie’s Frankenstory demonstrates, ordering those delightful discs of doughy yumminess isn’t without it’s perils…
The music on the radio chimed off and she focused her gaze on the door. She hadn’t looked up in 12 years, but she knew something was special about today; she could feel it. A knock: she had a visitor. He held a rectangular paper box which gave off the aroma of cheap food and grease. She let him enter her home after he tipped his red baseball cap, but she failed to notice his queer grin. Snap! And just like that, his entire being exploded and little pieces of man and baseball cap sprayed the woman. “What rotten luck,” said the woman, nonchalantly,”oh well, I mustn’t be late for the party.” She went to said party grinning-and-bloodily. after finding her pizza unsatisfying and eating the pizza man instead. Fortunately, all of the other partygoers thought the blood was fake and she was soon the life of the party, with the pizza man as its death.
(See the original story here)
So next time you’re tempted to order that XXL ‘Explosively Hot’ with ‘napalm sauce’ and double firecracker chilis, you might want to think about opting for the ham and pineapple option instead!
Anyway, got to run – the doorbell has just gone and the tantalising smell of tomato sauce and gunpowder suggests that Igor has opted for ‘The TNT special’ again. Time to grab the napkins. And the sandbags.
Until next time, stay half-baked.